Letters Home from a Yankee Doughboy 1916-1919

I forgot to thank Lena for the stamps that she sent with the paper and I will do so now. But I am also going to say that they have just finished the Y.M.C.A. building and from now on, as long as we are stationed here I advize you not to send any more stationary, news papers or stamps, for we got paid yesterday and Ive got enough money for these things anyway.

I am going to send home fifteen dollars if I can get down town again and if you need it why go to it. You may not think it is easy to spend money here but let me tell you it is. As I told you before, we are dry all the time and they always have ice cold tonic and ice cream at the canteen. I am sertainly learning to like ice cream and it seems as though the more of this and tonic I drink the thirstier I get.

Talking about sending stationary and stamps. What does this little girl of mine do but send down a whole box of it, a pad of paper and a book of stamps, also a pencil into which you can feed sticks of lead. She sent two bunches of lead sticks. It costs her twenty four cents to send it and you can see that it is not nessessary. Of coarse I thanked her and all that stuff, but I was not backward in telling her not to do this again. Now I hope you will take the hint, and not send any thing but letters. But do send letters. I hope you will take this the way I send it for I appreciate all you are doing to make me seem at home. I got $4.40 about two weeks ago and $72. yesterday so you see Im not broke, but I am going to try and send some home, for if I hold it long, well its gone that’s all. All you can see down through here is silver and gold. Yesterday I got a ten dollar gold piece and two silver dollars. The minute the fellows got their money in their hands they started the cards and dice going and they have been at it ever since in their spare time. Today being Sunday they are at it all day.

I wish you could see the crowd in this tent just now. I guess this is the hottest day we’ve had here yet, and I know it must be terrible up there. Well cheer up Winter is comming and I hope I will be there with it. There is a lot of talk just now of our pulling out of here next week. I hope so, for the change, if nothing else. I suppose Pa’s vacation will be all over when this letter reaches you, but no doubt he injoyed it. Some of the fellows are going to take advantage of that bill that excuses all married men that are now on the border. Well to tell the truth, no matter how hard it is down here for me I am not or would not quit. Of coarse some of them are married and have three or four children, and I don’t blame them. The City of Somerville was going to do this, that, and the other thing, for all these kind of fellows, but I guess the Town is living up to all that Pa thinks of it, for they are doing practically nothing, from what I hear. Well Im feeling fine and hope you are all the same

With love
Sam.

Dear Em,

I have just got in from drill and received your letter, and don’t be surprised if it is the last one for a few days. Ive told you I think, in some of my others that we are expected to move very soon. I was going to write this letter last night when I though I had all the time up till taps. But the Ninth had to go and start some thing, which pulled the whole Brigade out. I was just sitting down trying to get a comfortable light from a candle to write this, when bang-bang-bang. There wasn’t a one in our tent that paid any attention to it, until it sounded like a machine gun. Then (Call to Arms) was blown, all lights went out, the half finish letter was lost in the scramble for round abouts and rifles. In the mean time the firing continued at great speed.

Well there is nothing more to say about it. We formed our company orderly and quietly, into a skirmish line, as did all the other companies and waited for some real action. Now we all knew, the minute that we heard the first Shot that it was the, (Grand Fighting Ninth’s) out post, that had seen a mule or some thing waving its ears at them or some such thing, and of coarse they thought it was, Villa’s Army. You said that the Boston Papers were full of news from the Ninth. Well here is some news that ought to be put in the papers. Lasts nights afair, ment a couple of hours sleep, and about three hours work this after noon on the rifle, for where we formed the skirmish line we laid down in a bank of soft sand, the most of which was picked up by the rifles. They are new guns and the least bit of dust shows very plain on them, (Part of the game.)

If I don’t eat any more bread when I get home as I am eating now I guess there will be very little bread consumed at 297. Gee I wish I was at that number just now emptying the pan under the ice chest, for I know there is something good in there now. I’d put a disc on the machine, and clean up, wash my own dishes, and yes if it was Saturday after noon I’d water the beans. Don’t forget to keep a cold one on the ice for Dad. I’d make a quart of cold milk look sick in less than a minute just now. You spoke of biscuits and butter, its just like talking millions to me, especially Lena’s. Gee it’s a tough job to keep going with this letter and I hope you can make out the meaning of some of the sentences anyway.

Well its just as hot up there I suppose so why should I kick. Is there any sharks in the Mistic? If I had that bath tub here now, I sertainly would take advantage of the fact that the Hollands have one of their own. Well be good, give my love to all.